


Mirrors

by xagentofchaos



Series: Steter drabbles [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Character Death, Fluff, Growing Old Together, M/M, Soulmates, Steter - Freeform, eulogy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-25 13:05:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3811603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xagentofchaos/pseuds/xagentofchaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles' eulogy to Peter</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mirrors

The first time I saw you were like walking into a room with needles. They punctured my skin as I bled out on the ground, the next day I was alive again. I went through the same process over and over again, bleeding and screaming in that room filled with sharp needles. I had bruises on my lips when I tried to escape, a hole in my heart where your name was supposed to be. But meeting you for the first time wasn’t supposed to be bliss, it wasn’t meant to even happen. Therefor my first meeting with you was torturous and wrong and that’s why I left. 

*

The second time I met you, you were drunk. You had been swallowing down too many bottles of some brand of liquor I’ve never heard of. It was too expensive for me so I didn’t taste it on your lips; not even sure if you’d let me. The vibrating air reeking of alcohol around us was dark, the sun had settled hours ago. She was sleeping in her own bed that night again as the two of us shared the same sofa in silence. You showed me the remained scars on your body, those who will never fade, and you told me that they still burn. I traced my fingers on your skin, wanted to caress you more, but you stood up and left, leaving me in a room with alcohol substance between my fingers. 

*

The third time was a day of heavy clouds and rain. Both of us were soaked with clear water, wet streams running down our cheeks. I had forgotten my umbrella in my car when I ran into the woods to find you. You had been leaning against a tree, half naked to my eyes, not greeting back when I said hi with a broken voice. I didn’t try to talk to you after that, I only stood beside you for hours through dripping trees and rumbling lightning bursts. I wanted to take you home with me to safety, get away from the dangerousness by standing underneath heavy trees while thunder barricaded the sky. But I didn’t dare to touch your skin again; remembering the pain I felt in my chest when you denied me. Neither did I want to speak or hear your voice, the quiet between us spoke more than a thousand words and I didn’t need to hear anything else. None of us knew why I kept coming back to you, or why you let me be invited, but at the moment as we stood close to each other in silence; it didn’t matter. 

*

The fourth time was bloody and cruel. We had been in a fight, you and me, arguing about something I can’t remember. I let my anger delete the best in you and I can still feel the hot connection of your hand clasped on my cheek. The tears streaming down my face woke you up from anger, but I was still furious. Later I told you I fell into oblivion, even if you could hear my heart skip, I kept on telling you the lies. Because I didn’t want to remember stabbing you over and over again while not only you felt the pain, but the same sensation flooded through me as well. I didn’t want to know what it meant when you left me once again and I had to shower my own chest clean from my own blood. I had never been so scared in my whole life; joints shaking and breath stuck, but I also haven’t been so worried. I was worried that you’d never talk to me again. 

*

The fifth time was three weeks after the incident. I was still sore and bruised on my chest and I know you were as well. Seeing you again after those weeks was like being released from a heavy knot around my throat. I had to force myself to not run to you and mend our lips together into a whole, complete piece. I didn’t dare to ask if you were angry; afraid to hear the answer through your mouth. But you told me anyway; you said you were pissed off for not being able to stay away. Not because I stabbed you five times in your chest; creating chaos in my own as well. No, because you had been awake at nights, not being able to fall asleep; I was on your mind every second of your days. Not leaving your thoughts a single bit. I told you I felt the same way. Although, I didn’t tell you that I hurting you also caused pain in me, I still know from this day that you already knew. 

*

The sixth time you finally let me touch you. It wasn’t much nor sensational in other people’s eyes. But to me it was like being brought together with a piece of your soul again, like a part of me I didn’t know about was lost and your skin connected us. My fingertips soothed your arms in a worshipping way; you were my God and I loved you. Your lips had only a faint taste of that liquor you’d promised to stop drinking, and I still remember that taste if I close my eyes. You held me tight in your arms, whispering words I’ve forgotten, in my ears. I shivered longingly when you placed your lips on my neck, biting softly; but not enough to pierce through. You carried me to bed like I was your bride that night, blushing slightly when I mocked you about it. But you made love with me like magic afterwards and asked for my hand at the altar just a couple of months later. 

*

Your eyesight began to disappear as years passed by; only being able to see through your vibrant blue but also that color began to fade into dusky white. You sensed me through hearing and feeling and nothing really changed between us, I still loved you like the first time I knew what those feelings meant. You couldn’t see the scars on my chest anymore, only trace them with your fingers and I still hadn’t told you about it. Neither could you see your own hair turn grey but you were glad you didn’t. You rather felt the old seeping over you than seeing it in the mirror. Although, you did hide more from me when the age became visible. I tried to seek you but you ran away, like a wounded animal. 

*

You died on my scarred chest one night, when August had turned September and the warmth faded. Both of us old enough and grown in mind. It was like the piece of me you gave had been ripped out painfully. A piece of my soul had been replaced with darkness. Never have I ever been crying as much as I did, with your still God-like body withering above me. It took me weeks to write you this eulogy, because saying goodbye is like killing myself, your soul melt with mine. I regret to this day that I didn’t tell you the truth behind the scars, of why I got them from stabbing you. I bet you thought I regret not allowing myself the bite from you but I don’t. Remembering the past and all the beauty and tragic, praises more in my mind than forgetting. Getting the bite would heal the wounds on my skin; the wounds that marked that you and I are one. So having you die on me that night killed a part of me as well. 

*

I stepped into a room full of needles again yesterday, the day before this funeral for us. They were all soaked in my own blood from that day those many years ago, when I first met you. It smelled like wet forest in the room; the feeling of invisible rain damp in my hair. The taste of the burning auburn whiskey you drank was heavy in the air and my scars hurt more than ever. I felt the feeling of falling in love with you again, laying in that white room with machines surrounding me. I died with the memory of you that night and your flavored lips kissing my scarred chest. I fell in love with you all over again that night, listening to your distant heartbeat. Your skin was on mine when I closed my eyes and I could see your young eyes meet mine, glistering magically in the dark; coloring our surroundings brightly blue.


End file.
